


whatever our souls are made of

by honeycbx



Category: Super Junior
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, also just regular homophobia, although that is discussed/implied and not coming from any characters in the fic thanks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24512245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeycbx/pseuds/honeycbx
Summary: maybe they can see everything that sets him apart from the rest.(a story told in stops and starts, bits and pieces.)
Relationships: Cho Kyuhyun/Kim Ryeowook
Comments: 9
Kudos: 44





	1. part one.

**Author's Note:**

> (insert here we go again meme)
> 
> with regards to the tags: the referenced and past abuse are only very vaguely referenced; the nature of it is also kept vague. i think it's possible to read past the implications and ignore them, but that is the intention with which i wrote this story and it's only fair to warn people who might interpret my words as i wrote them. in deciding whether or not to read this, please take care of yourself first and foremost.

ryeowook has dreams.

***

soulmates are rare. it isn’t that ryeowook doesn’t believe in the concept, because he does. he wants to, anyway, even if the statistical likelihood of meeting a soulmate is, in essence, zero.

***

ryeowook has these dreams where the right person comes along and makes the aching stop. as a child the dreams felt like proof that he wouldn’t always be so alone or so misunderstood. these days it feels more like a delusion.

***

the first time he ever steps foot inside the sm entertainment building, he’s greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces, like no one can imagine why he’s here. as if he isn’t just like them, eager to debut and terrified of failure.

maybe he isn’t like them, not entirely. maybe they can see everything that sets him apart from the rest.

***

in his dreams, and only in his dreams, ryeowook picks his way through a sea of loose thread and knows, in the way that one knows things in dreams, that the threads are soulmate threads.

when he breaks through the surface and gasps for air, heechul and jungsoo are waiting, pinkies tied together, and in eerie twin voices they ask, “what took you so long?”

ryeowook wakes up with his heart in his throat and doesn’t fall back asleep.

***

something snaps in ryeowook, the first time he meets kyuhyun.

kyuhyun is gangly and awkward, and ryeowook has already decided he will not allow kyuhyun to feel the same aching loneliness that was ryeowook’s entire life for those first few critical months.

youngwoon is watching ryeowook like he can read his mind, but ryeowook doesn’t care. youngwoon must understand, anyway, having martyred himself in much the same way for ryeowook, only months ago.

***

“why do you care so much?” kyuhyun asks, quiet and more than a little tipsy. “wouldn’t it be easier if you didn’t?”

“yeah,” ryeowook says softly. “it would.”

***

the first time kyuhyun appears in his dreams, it settles a stone in ryeowook’s stomach. it’s not like he hadn’t known before, but there’s something strange and different about seeing it laid out for him.

in the dream, ryeowook is looking into a mirror. kyuhyun is looking back at him, it should be disorienting and isn’t, and ryeowook has long since given up trying to make sense of his dreams. he lifts his hand and kyuhyun does too, and the red thread tying them together pulls taut, still half-tangled up in threads pulled up from the sea they’re drowning in. ryeowook doesn’t dwell on them any further. he already knows, as dream-things do, that these threads belong to the rest of the members, that there will be nine other threads of varying colors tangled up in his own.

there’s something strange but not unfamiliar about knowing for certain. ryeowook suspects he’s always known.

***

kyuhyun is, after all, a magnetic force.

***

ryeowook is, after all, fairly certain they’re all caught up in some cosmic game, like the heavens are competing for whose pawn can suffer the worst hand.

***

“i’m not going.”

“you can’t just _not go_ ,” jungsoo says incredulously, like he can’t believe he’s having this conversation. which is really jungsoo’s own fault for having expectations that ryeowook will never live up to.

“he doesn’t even want to see me.”

“you don’t know that.”

“do you know that he does?”

jungsoo’s frustrated sigh tells ryeowook everything he needs to know.

***

“you need to eat something.”

“not hungry.” ryeowook avoids kyuhyun’s eyes; he’s the only person ryeowook could never lie to.

either way, kyuhyun doesn’t fall for it. “you can’t do this to yourself. we need you at your best.”

ryeowook is not, in truth, convinced that they need him at all, but he doesn’t say so. kyuhyun would find a way to take personal offense to the statement, somehow, and ryeowook has very little interest in upsetting him. “i’ll eat later.”

“weird,” kyuhyun says, “how i don’t believe you.”

***

when ryeowook isn’t dreaming about soulmate threads, he dreams about ghosts, haunted houses, phantom touches and cold winds and creatures in the shadows. he wakes feeling cold, every time.

***

kyuhyun’s hand lands on his shoulder. ryeowook flinches.

to kyuhyun’s advantage, being surrounded by chinese speakers means they don’t need to be quite as careful as they typically are. to ryeowook’s disadvantage, this means that kyuhyun has no qualms about opening up this conversation right this very moment, stage lights and audience be damned.

at least he’s quiet about it when he says, “you knew i was standing behind you.”

ryeowook deliberates, trying to come up with something, anything, that won’t set off alarm bells. “you just moved too fast.”

kyuhyun tilts his head, considering. ryeowook reaches behind himself to link their pinkies together, and kyuhyun lets him, but ryeowook knows it’s not enough to get out of the conversation completely.

***

they avoid talking about han geng for a very long time, because every mention of his name sets off heechul or jungsoo or both again, and no one wants to be on the receiving end of either hyung’s wrath.

so, avoidance.

kibum’s absence hurts just as much, these days. ryeowook thinks it’s kind of stupid that they built a career out of being able to perform any song with any number of members, and yet missing two feels like a missing limb. maybe it’s because of the permanence of their absence.

all at once, ryeowook feels dizzy. he trips over his own feet, nearly sending himself sprawling. siwon is quick, though, grabbing ryeowook by the collar and pulling him back into place. and ryeowook is practiced at this in particular, knows how to hide things and knows how to find his place once again in a dance number despite the room spinning. he suspects a cord or two have been ripped free from his mic pack, rendering his in-ears useless, but when he removes them and focuses he can hear the music from the speakers well enough to follow along.

the show moves on. siwon doesn’t even spare him another glance, because to do so would be to acknowledge the existence of a problem, but ryeowook can tell by the firmness of siwon’s hand on his back as the group takes its final bow that he’s about to receive a stern lecture from at least one of the hyungs.

sure enough, locked in the safety of their dressing room, in various states of nudity as people divest themselves of sweat-soaked stage outfits, siwon levels his gaze at ryeowook.

“what happened out there?”

“i’m fine,” ryeowook says smoothly, having had entire minutes to himself at this point to practice his response. “i just got dizzy.”

“wait, what happened?” heechul frowns.

“nothing,” ryeowook says, at the same time that siwon answers, “ryeowook fell while we were performing.”

“yeah, i was wondering about that,” hyukjae says, leaning in to involve himself.

“you all worry too much,” ryeowook says, although he knows full well he’s given them plenty of reason to worry in the past. “i’m fine. maybe i’m just—”

before he can get the word _dehydrated_ out, a water bottle lands in his lap. kyuhyun isn’t looking at him, so there’s no way to thank him, but ryeowook knows it must have been him.

“if it happens again,” heechul says, but it remains an empty and unfinished threat when jungsoo claps his hands, calling everyone’s attention to him once more.

***

ryeowook curls up in kyuhyun’s bed, willing himself not to cry. kyuhyun is in the shower, will be back any minute, there’s no reason to be sad—

a single, spiteful tear slips free. ryeowook wipes it away viciously.

***

“you can talk about it, if you want.”

ryeowook nudges kyuhyun’s shin with his toes. “i’m okay.”

“you know you can’t lie to me.”

“i just…” ryeowook hesitates, staring at the tv without really seeing it. in another room, henry and zhoumi are having what sounds like a heated argument in mandarin. then again, from what ryeowook understands of mandarin, they might just be talking about a new movie or something equally banal. “i miss him. is that wrong?”

it’s easier without names. names are what set people off, make them angry and cause glass objects to be hurled across the room with significant force. ryeowook knows better than to use names.

kyuhyun, thankfully, is smart enough to catch on without them. “maybe. i don’t know. i don’t really have answers for you.”

“i know the hyungs are mad,” ryeowook says carefully. “i know—i should be mad. but i’m not. i just want him to come home.”

“you’re not home, either,” kyuhyun reminds him.

“you know what i mean, though.”

“yeah,” kyuhyun says, very softly. “yeah, i do.”

***

things will never be the same. ryeowook knows this because his dreams turn gloomy, a sort of miserable rainy air to them that ryeowook hasn’t experienced since he was a child. even his soulmate dreams are similar, surroundings gray and threads dulled, some beginning to wear and fray. it’s a little scary, holding a thread between his fingers and watching it try to hold itself together. ryeowook pulls one of them and it falls apart like candy floss, dissolves into dust in the air.

***

“do you believe in soulmates?”

ryeowook’s heart stops, thoughts racing with dreams of thousands of strings and gloomy gray skies and haunted houses. evenually he fights through the panic to say, “yes.”

kyuhyun studies him, perhaps not expecting such a concrete answer about such an otherworldly topic, but ryeowook is not like kyuhyun. ryeowook has never grounded himself in concrete facts, and the truth is that the real world in the way that most people see it has little appeal to him. this is no one’s fault, but it does render the real world somewhat inaccessible to him at times.

kyuhyun, on the other hand, engages in what ryeowook likes to call practiced disinterest. what ryeowook is unable to understand, kyuhyun has long since understood and decided he simply didn’t like it. it makes for strange conversation at times.

“i didn’t think you would,” kyuhyun admits after a minute.

“i have dreams about them,” ryeowook confesses. “i have dreams where i can see the threads that connect them.”

“like, prophetic clairvoyant dream or hopeless romantic dream?”

“i’m not a hopeless romantic.”

kyuhyun pulls a face like he’s thinking about arguing, then seems to think better of it. “so they’re clairvoyant dreams, then. you know who people’s soulmates are?”

ryeowook regrets encouraging this conversation, and with _kyuhyun_ of all people. “i mean, it’s—they’re _dreams_ , so i can’t exactly—i don’t know if it’s real or how well it carries to real life, but—”

“ _who_ , ryeowook?”

ryeowook sighs. “teuk hyung and heechul hyung,” he says. “i had a nightmare about them, actually. one of the first nights i ever met them.”

“soulmate nightmares,” kyuhyun muses. “that’s a new one. who else?”

“kyuhyun—” ryeowook cuts himself off, already recognizing it as pointless. they are long past the point, now, where ryeowook could back down from this. “donghae hyung and eunhyuk hyung.”

“you’re only naming pairs within the group.”

“those are the easiest to see,” ryeowook tries to reason. “i see them more often. and i have to know the people on both ends of the thread, otherwise it’s just a hopeless mess. sometimes my dreams are just—me drowning in this ocean of strings that i can’t make sense of. and not everyone in the universe gets the chance to meet their soulmate. i don’t know. the fact that we have even—so many pairs within the group is—it’s weird.”

kyuhyun mulls that over for a minute. “have you met your soulmate?”

ryeowook feels cold, but there’s never been any hope of lying to kyuhyun, and ryeowook had known where this conversation would head before it even started. “yes.”

“who is it? have i met her?” ryeowook levels kyuhyun with a gaze that surprises even himself for its steadiness, and kyuhyun is quick to correct himself. “have i met _him_ , then?”

“yeah,” ryeowook says. “you have.”

kyuhyun seems to recognize that he’s walking through dangerous territory now. “you don’t want me to know.”

“i don’t know yet,” ryeowook admits.

***

time drags on and flies by at once. sometimes, ryeowook feels like he’s spliced between two different timelines.

when sungmin introduces them to saeun, ryeowook likes her immediately. she and sungmin fit so well together that ryeowook finds himself bracing for a soulmate dream that never comes.

what does come, though, is another haunted house nightmare that leaves ryeowook shaken and alone.

***

he makes a conscious decision to splice his military stint out of his life entirely. for all that his hyungs had done to make it seem like not so miserable an experience, ryeowook hates every second of it. as far as he’s concerned, the person who served that term was a different person from the one who lives and breathes to perform on stage, as if ryeowook had been, for two entire years, an observer of his own body.

***

he’s no stranger to that sensation, anyway.

***

for what it’s worth, he did end up learning the source, the root cause of his haunted house dreams with their phantom hands and creeping shadows.

he’s just not sure he’s better off knowing.

***

kyuhyun pulls him aside one day to say, “i know it’s me.”

ryeowook can’t bring himself to confirm or deny it.

“i’ve had five years to think about it,” kyuhyun continues. “i know—i know. i’m right, aren’t i?”

reluctantly, ryeowook nods.

“you’ve known from the beginning, haven’t you?” kyuhyun guesses. ryeowook nods again. “god, ryeowook. why didn’t you ever say anything?”

ryeowook reaches for his hand. kyuhyun flinches away, still half in performance mode, scanning the empty hall for eavesdroppers. he relaxes, but ryeowook has already dropped his own hand.

“that’s why,” he says softly. kyuhyun’s shoulders slump. “what could knowing have ever changed?”


	2. part two.

“you two,” hyukjae says, gesturing rather vaguely and around a mouthful of some monstrosity of a take-out order, despite the fact that kyuhyun had _offered_ to cook. kyuhyun wrinkles his nose. hyukjae swallows and continues, “you two need to sort your shit out.”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“don’t test me,” hyukjae replies. “you two don’t fight.”

kyuhyun opens his mouth to argue.

“about stupid shit. you _bicker_ , constantly, yes, but that’s different, isn’t it? you don’t fight about the important things, ever, and it’s never lasted this long. you know the last time you fought like this? 2007.”

2007 was not a good year, by anyone’s standards, and the fact that hyukjae brings it up now must mean he’s serious. kyuhyun sighs. “you’re the resident ryeowook-reading expert. tell me what to do.”

hyukjae snorts. “if you think my ability to empathize with him holds a _candle_ to what the two of you have, you’re dumber than i thought.”

“hyung,” kyuhyun says, skirting the line between whining and begging. “i’m trying to ask for your help.”

it’s hyukjae’s turn to sigh. he thinks for a moment, thumb absently stroking the rim of his glass. kyuhyun watches, half-mesmerised, until he finally speaks. “he’s hurting, kyuhyun. i don’t know if you—”

he pauses, squinting at kyuhyun. “if i what?”

“if you noticed,” hyukjae eventually finishes. “you—maybe you haven’t. if you didn’t know what to look for.”

the thought curdles in kyuhyun’s stomach. ryeowook is his best friend, after all, and the idea of ryeowook being in pain and kyuhyun _not noticing_ —

hyukjae seems to realize his train of thought and cuts him off at the pass. “kyuhyun. it’s not like that. if you didn’t know, it just means he didn’t want you to know. there’s nothing you could’ve done then, and there’s nothing you can do now. it’s out of your hands.”

kyuhyun mulls that over for a few minutes, which is not the easiest thing he’s ever done. “can you tell me why?”

“why he’s hurting?” kyuhyun nods. hyukjae tilts his head, studying kyuhyun or trying to choose his words carefully, or something. “you know, obviously, what you consider your relationship with ryeowook. i’m not going to make any assumptions about your life, but the important thing is that _you_ know.”

kyuhyun nods.

“can you imagine settling down, getting married? to some nice girl, maybe you met her at a café, you’ve got plenty in common with her and your parents even approve. hell, maybe you’re even in love with her.”

the moment the word _love_ spills into the open, kyuhyun can feel his imagination warping under him, but he does what he can to keep the image flat in his mind. “of course i—”

“no,” hyukjae interrupts. “listen to me. i’m not talking about what’s expected of you, what you think you have a responsibility to do as the filial son. i’m talking about _you_. whether _you_ could marry someone you may or may not love, whether you, specifically, can even imagine yourself having a real relationship with her. a relationship that’s not just superficial.”

silence blankets them, though kyuhyun can barely tell the difference, his insides turning and twisting with anxiety now, pulse racing too fast for a conversation over the dinner table.

“no, i couldn’t,” he eventually whispers. “not—not with her.”

“but we never named anyone,” hyukjae points out. “i just told you to imagine your ideal girl, and now you’re telling me you can’t even fall in love with something you created in your _head_ —”

kyuhyun pushes himself away from the table, backing away even as hyukjae stands up. “i’m going to be sick.”

“don’t run away from this, kyuhyun,” hyukjae warns.

“i’m _not_. i just—i need a minute.”

he barricades himself in the bathroom before hyukjae can argue, but he can’t _breathe_ , can’t look at himself in the mirror, can barely even think. he slides down the door in darkness, curling in on himself, trying trying _trying_ to reel himself back in and it’s not working, and he’s dizzy, and now he’s crying, too, wet ugly sounds that just slip out of him and it’s _pointless_ , all of it, anyway, isn’t it? it’s stupid. he doesn’t even know _why_ he’s crying, can’t think beyond the panic to remember the reason for any of it.

and he sits there, just _feeling_ , all raw and exposed-nerve and terrified, until someone knocks twice at the door and snaps him back into reality.

ryeowook’s voice carries through the door. “i’m here, kyuhyunnie,” he says softly, “if you need me.”

he sounds about ear-level, odd in itself since kyuhyun is presently on the floor. ryeowook must also be on the floor, then, which in itself is enough of a puzzle that it enables kyuhyun to focus on that, instead, and regain control over his breathing.

he loses track of time again, listening to the erratic _ping_ that is ryeowook receiving a new message. he feels nervous about the idea of opening the door, for some reason, or—or doing anything, really, as if uncurling from himself will shatter the fragile peace he’s got now.

but if ryeowook is _here_ , it means hyukjae called him here, which means that kyuhyun sort of owes it to both of them to not retreat into himself right now, regardless of how terrible he feels and probably looks, too. he forces himself to stand up and find the light switch and, avoiding the mirror as well as he can, splashes his face with cold water. then he knocks twice on the door to warn ryeowook, and waits until he hears ryeowook move out of the way before he opens it.

“oh,” ryeowook breathes, soft and gentle, voice wavering and sounding almost as breakable as kyuhyun feels. “kyuhyunnie.”

“i—” kyuhyun breaks off, unable to find the words, but it doesn’t matter because ryeowook’s arms circle around his waist, squeezing so tightly that kyuhyun almost feels like he can’t breathe again. but ryeowook’s presence is a comfort, always, and tension slips away from his body almost without him realizing.

and—ryeowook is something precious. kyuhyun hugs him back, just as tightly, terrified of letting go, because he _can’t_ lose ryeowook, and even after fifteen years of solid, unshakeable friendship, the fear is still there. and ryeowook—whose clumsiness with his own emotions has never stopped him from being almost violently empathetic—kyuhyun just wants him to understand. to _know_ , somehow.

finally, kyuhyun manages to say, “thank you. for coming.”

it’s not what he means to say, and it’s nowhere near representative of the turmoil inside him, but ryeowook replies, “i know,” and some of the storm settles. kyuhyun’s legs feel like jelly. he sinks to his knees, slowly, and ryeowook follows without hesitation.

“it’s okay,” he says, while kyuhyun wills himself not to cry again. “i know, kyuhyunnie.”

kyuhyun clings to him. “i’m sorry,” he breathes. “i’m so sorry.”

“it’s _okay_ ,” ryeowook repeats. “everything’s okay, i promise.”

later, when ryeowook tries to tuck kyuhyun into bed, kyuhyun can’t help himself. he clings just a little more every time ryeowook tries to pull away, but it takes less coaxing than kyuhyun had thought it would to convince ryeowook to stay, allowing kyuhyun to curl up against him like they haven’t done since they were just kids, fresh-faced and terrified and seeking whatever comfort the world would allow them.

***

ryeowook lets the incident lie between them for several blissful, too-short days before he lets himself into the dorm and promptly kicks hyukjae out.

“i live here, you know,” hyukjae shouts through the door. ryeowook makes a vaguely rude gesture in his direction, though hyukjae can’t actually see through solid walls. kyuhyun sinks into the couch, already trying to decide the best way out of this conversation. faking a heart attack, maybe.

“eunhyuk-hyung told me,” ryeowook says, settling into the couch next to kyuhyun, “what he said to you.”

all of the panic from that night comes surging in again. “i—”

ryeowook waits, watching kyuhyun with such genuine concern that kyuhyun isn’t sure what to do with it, but kyuhyun doesn’t have the words to form a reply. “i think—there are nicer ways to go about it. sending you into a panic attack seemed a little harsh, if i’m being honest.”

“a little,” kyuhyun repeats, desperately wishing he could hide from ryeowook and knowing that he can’t. distantly he wonders if ryeowook would let him have this conversation from underneath a blanket, but he decides against asking. “i don’t even know what any of it means.”

“you know,” ryeowook says softly, and it’s not—not mean, or anything, it’s not _anything_ except a gentle statement of fact, and something inside kyuhyun cracks. “you’re just scared to think about it. which is understandable.”

“if someone had asked, ten years ago, where i thought i’d be now,” kyuhyun says slowly, piecing the words together from a set of thousands, struggling to find the ones that correspond to his thoughts, “sitting on the couch with my best friend life-coaching me through my first sexuality crisis would not have been my answer.”

“i was six,” ryeowook says eventually. “when i—found out. i’m not—like you. i don’t know what it’s like to _not_ know. but it’s not always like that. sometimes people realize when they’re fifteen or forty-five or ninety, and all of it is _fine_ , kyuhyun. you’re fine.”

“i’m—” kyuhyun pauses again. “i’m scared.”

this, kyuhyun supposes, is where ryeowook’s reassurances run dry; he only nods in response, picking at a loose thread in one of the throw pillows he’d pulled into his lap. at length, he replies, “the world is not a nice place for people like us.”

kyuhyun had known that, though. it’s not that he’s ever paid particularly close attention to those sorts of things, but—well, everyone has a friend of a friend who knows someone, who’s either been through it or knows someone else who has. and, admittedly, maybe he’s been paying a little more attention ever since ryeowook’s confession—years ago, now. “how do you do it?”

ryeowook narrows his eyes at him.

“not—jesus, ryeowook.” kyuhyun wrinkles his nose for a second, but quickly sobers when he remembers his actual question. “i meant—live. survive.”

ryeowook’s breath hitches.

“i didn’t—you don’t have to answer that. i just… the more i think about—about going forward and trying to exist, the scarier it seems, and then—you’ve just— _been_ doing it, for so long, and i—”

“it’s terrifying,” ryeowook interrupts. “it’s terrifying, and i live knowing that every day could be my last, that if this secret _ever_ gets out, people out there might want me dead for something i can’t control. maybe the world is better now than it was, but you don’t just _lose_ that fear. it doesn’t go away. every day there’s another news article about someone like me, somewhere in the world, who was less careful than i am and lost their life for it. it’s not—”

his voice cracks, and he stops, a little breathless, and stares at kyuhyun. for a minute, neither of them even breathe.

“you learn to live with it,” ryeowook finally gets out, much more subdued. “we shouldn’t have to, but we do. i’ve been careful, always, and only ever talked about it with—”

he cuts himself off, but kyuhyun might as well be living in his head. “other members,” he guesses, and ryeowook nods slowly. “whose names you won’t tell me, for their sake. people you—you know you can trust, because they have just as much to lose.”

ryeowook doesn’t quite look at him.

“have you ever—i mean—shit.” kyuhyun pauses, trying to sort through his thoughts. “it’s weird. right? because i—i didn’t think i’d ever had feelings for another guy before.”

silence. but ryeowook is watching him now, eyes soft and encouraging, and kyuhyun steels himself and presses on.

“but then—when eunhyuk-hyung… well, when i freaked out. he said—god. i never—”

“kyuhyun,” ryeowook interrupts. “breathe.”

“i kept thinking about you.” ryeowook looks away again. “you know that—well, they say that soulmates are sort of—inevitably romantic, because once you meet them it’s hard to then find a relationship as meaningful as that one is. and eunhyuk-hyung—he asked me if i could imagine myself getting married, but the moment he started talking about love…”

“kyuhyun,” ryeowook says again, voice trembling.

“it’s you,” kyuhyun says, before ryeowook can distract him. “it’s always been you, ryeowook, and it always will be, and—and i was _stupid_ not to realize it before, because it—you—”

ryeowook kisses him. it’s sudden, so sudden that kyuhyun freezes, mentally scolding himself for not having registered ryeowook’s forward lurch into kyuhyun’s lap, his hands on kyuhyun’s cheeks, and then it sinks in that _ryeowook is kissing him_ , and he’d better start kissing back before ryeowook backs out—

he surges upward, accidentally knocking ryeowook off-balance and swallowing the little yelp of surprise he lets out, steadying them both with a hand at ryeowook’s back. he’s finding it incredibly difficult to think with the heat of ryeowook’s mouth on him, ryeowook’s hands sliding back to tangle in kyuhyun’s hair.

“oh god,” ryeowook breathes, tilting his head away. kyuhyun kisses the corner of his mouth one last time and then rests his forehead on ryeowook’s shoulder, trying to catch his breath. “i’m sorry.”

“don’t be,” kyuhyun murmurs. ryeowook shifts his weight and kyuhyun tightens his grip, desperate to keep him from slipping away.

“it’s always been you,” ryeowook whispers, parroting kyuhyun’s words back to him. “fifteen years—i dreamed about you the first damn night i met you, you know that? i—i’ve always known. i always knew it would be, and i fought for so long to not—let myself feel anything more, because i didn’t think you would—”

ryeowook breaks off suddenly. kyuhyun’s chest feels tight. “i know,” he says, rubbing circles into ryeowook’s back in an attempt to soothe him. “but i—i know now, and i’m here now.”

“yeah,” ryeowook agrees, pulling back to look at him; kyuhyun’s long since used to the look of pure adoration, but it doesn’t get old. “you are.”

kyuhyun pulls him down and kisses him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is not where i thought i was going with this story initially, but in my defense i listened to kyuhyun's koms performance of breathe on repeat while writing, and then while i was wrapping it up kyuhyun had the nerve to drop his cover of the little prince and... i'll just say "you're my blue star" broke me a little.


End file.
